I Still Choose You
by atheart101
Summary: She'd gotten really good at lying to herself. They were friends. She only saw them as friends, only wanted them to be friends. Could only focus on being friends. Yes, the lying to herself was easy. It was the believing part that was hard.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own these precious, yet misguided characters. I simply use them to express my feels.

**A/N:** So I'm stuck being bored at work (shocker, I know), and decided to risk getting into trouble to write this up. Afterall, when inspiration strikes...Anyway, this is just a little blip into what I'm hoping is going through Annie's head. I hope we'll see soon enough where the writers are taking this. I miss that Annie/Auggie love.

_"I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back. The less I give the more I get back. Your hands can heal, your hands can bruise. I don't have a choice, but I still choose you...I don't love you, but I always will, I always will."_

She'd gotten really good at lying to herself. They were friends. She only saw them as friends, only wanted them to be friends. Could only focus on being friends. Yes, the lying to herself was easy. It was the believing part that was hard. Because he was right, what he told her in Paris. _Turning your back on your emotions doesn't make you a better spy, it's just cutting you off from anyone close to you. _But she had to. She had to because if she went in with her heart, if she let him _people_ in, she could lost everything. Using her gut alongside her heart, her intuition was what made her such an extraordinary spy to begin with, but now that she had so much to hide, keeping her emotions in check was the only option. She couldn't let too much show. She couldn't care, couldn't put anything, anyone, ahead of - no. No she wouldn't even contemplate it. Because thinking about it led to ruminating on it, which led back to the old argument of _how good an idea is this really_, which led to her ultimately caring still again. And that could only end in misery.

But still. It was here, in her apartment at night, when street lamps lit the roads and only workaholics or those traveling were out, that Annie found she couldn't lie to herself anymore. And she felt. Oh did she feel. And she wanted nothing more than to run to his sliding metal door and fall into his arms. Because at night it was a flood, not a tide she could keep at bay. At night it overwhelmed her and dragged her down, tossed her about and spit her back out. Everything she felt and shoved away. Because despite the lies and despite the denial there was one truth even the sunlight couldn't hide away.

She loved him.

She'd always loved him and she knew she always would. What was worse was she wanted to. She wanted to love him, to let herself fall into it, not to box it up and put on a good face, even if it did slip every once in a while when she reiterated they were friends and he told her about his relationships. Thank God he was blind, or her traitorous face would give everything away. And yet...

God, getting him that coffee this morning felt good. Doing something for him, an excuse to let his face be the first she saw, his voice be the first she heard. It was so much more than an apology, it was a promise that she was still Annie, that she was still his.

She shouldn't have done it, tried to tell herself that him being absent was a good thing, but his words in Paris still ripped through her. _I always put you before the mission. I always choose you. _And for the first time, she didn't. She's let targets escape before when Auggie needed her in the past. Of course, he yelled at her for it, but she never regretted it. Because she would always choose him.

Except this time she didn't. Because she wasn't supposed to care. And now she was up at three in the morning chastising herself because she really really does and if this were a movie he'd be knocking at her front door right now with a deep, heart-warming, agonized "Walker," and kissing her senseless. But this wasn't a movie and he wasn't coming because she made things right with Tash. Because she cares too much.

She really needed to start lying to herself again. At least then she was being productive. And since when did she pine over a guy and have uber long internal monologues?

Annie sighed and flipped over to her left side, facing away from the empty side of the bed. She now faced the clock, but she figured it was better than giving her brain more fodder for her pining fire. She watched the clock click to 3:17 am and closed her eyes, willing her mind to clear. She'd see him tomorrow afterall, and maybe, just maybe, she'd find the strength to let him behind her wall, to show him she was still his Annie, whether he wanted her or not. Lying was too tiring to sustain anyway. What was that phrase? The truth will out.

Annie sighed again, giving in. She'd start with the coffee.


End file.
